


When I Was Lost, You Thought Me a Beautiful Find

by thegrumblingirl



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 1x02, Episode Tag, First Time, M/M, Valiant - Freeform, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:04:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur is forced to go up against Valiant in the tournament finale, Merlin tries to persuade him to withdraw, and things take an unexpected turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Was Lost, You Thought Me a Beautiful Find

Merlin didn't know what to say, what to do. Should he enter? He was too scared Arthur would simply chase him right out of his quarters again, so he just lingered outside the door. He'd been trying to bring that stupid statue of a ruddy dog to life for hours now, and he still hadn't succeeded. If he didn't, there was no chance he could save Arthur. Merlin stared at his master through the open door, his heart twisting in his chest. The flames were illuminating the Prince's face, dancing across his cheeks, playing tag in his hair. He shouldn't stay, yet he couldn't leave. He couldn't let Arthur do this. But why would he listen to him now? Unbidden, Merlin thought of the Great Dragon's words earlier.

"The half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole."

Try as he might, these words were still echoing in his mind. Another riddle, he thought—then why did it feel like the meaning was strangely obvious? Merlin couldn't help but question his own instinct to protect Arthur, because it was more than just instinct, more than just his duty: he needed Arthur to be safe. He felt that this whole destiny business would rear its ugly head at some point, but this had nothing to do with it. Merlin didn't feel coerced by some snarky dragon telling him about fate and Albion to save Arthur. It was in his heart that he had to; no matter that by serving Arthur he served Uther, a man who would order to kill him without a thought were he to know that Merlin was a warlock. No matter how much he complained to Gaius about how Arthur treated him, and about what an obvious royal prat the young Prince was—he couldn't hate him for all of that. Now, if the Great Dragon had meant what Merlin thought he had… Could it be as simple as that? You cannot hate someone you… love? Merlin's heart beat faster at the thought, and he chastised himself. Arthur would never… he had to stifle a scoff.  _The girls and the glory, remember, Merlin?_  he thought to himself. Feeling that way about the once and future King was out of the question.

Still, he had to try and get Arthur to withdraw. Merlin couldn't bear seeing the man he surely did love die at a villain's hand because of his own ineptitude. He'd rather lose Arthur's trust for good. Giving himself a mental push, he stepped into the room. For a moment, he thought Arthur wouldn't even acknowledge him, but he was surprised to get an immediate reaction instead of the cold shoulder.

"I thought I'd told you to get out of my sight?"

Fair enough.

"Don't fight Valiant in the finale tomorrow," Merlin replied, his voice thick with some strangled emotion he'd rather not try to identify right now. "He'll use the shield against you."

"I know," Arthur cut him off, his mouth set in a thin line of resignation.

Merlin couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Then withdraw! You have to withdraw—"

"Don't you understand?" Finally, Arthur turned to glare at him. At Merlin's incredulous look, he explained: "I can't withdraw. The people expect their Prince to fight—how can I lead men into battle if they think I'm a coward?"

"Valiant will kill you! If you fight, you die!" Merlin felt his temper rising, and the idea of knocking some sense into the young Pendragon with his fists would have sounded really good right about now, if he hadn't known that without magic that was a lost effort.

"Then I die!" Arthur rebuffed him, throwing his indignation right back into his face with a sleight of hand.

"How can you go out there and fight like that?"

"Because I have to. It's my duty."

Merlin stared at him, only now realizing what Gaius had meant. Arthur already had the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders, at the cost of his own life. The young warlock would give his life to save the Prince's any day, and only now did he understand that Arthur would do the same. He was about to turn around and leave, but something kept him rooted on the spot.

"I wish it weren't." There were tears standing in his eyes now, and he hoped they wouldn't fall quite yet.

"Why are you pestering me about this, Merlin?" Arthur turned towards him fully now, extending his arms in a gesture of exasperation.

"Because… because I…"

"Come on, Merlin, why so shy? The first two times we met, I enjoyed your bravery. Now, what's this? Bumbling?"

Merlin's lips trembled. Yes, he remembered his bravery on that first day, he remembered how Arthur had complimented him instead of throwing him into the dungeon the second, and he remembered feeling like he couldn't quite decide whether he was being treated like a rare shell picked up on the shore, or a stray taken in on a whim. He had been lost, and the Prince of Camelot had found him. Destiny or no, he took a step forward right into Arthur's personal space, who, curiously enough, let him get closer without comment or reprimand. It was true, Merlin liked to think he was brave, perhaps even now, when part of him was certain he was about to do the most foolish thing of his life—or perhaps the best. Slowly and carefully, he raised his hands, only just framing Arthur's cheeks, not quite touching him, and leaned even closer until their noses were only an inch apart.

"Because," he whispered, then closed the gap and softly kissed Arthur's mouth. Even while he was terrified, in the few seconds that his lips were caressing Arthur's, he knew that he would never regret this, no matter the punishment.

When he pulled back—indeed, Arthur hadn't shoved him away or, at that, punched him—he expected outrage or disgust on the Prince's face, but all he saw was… surprise.

"You're surprised," he blurted, and then he was in for a bit of a shock, too, as Arthur suddenly seized him by the collar of his tunic, pulling him close.

"Yes, thank you, Sir Obvious," Arthur growled and looked at him with questioning eyes, as if searching for a truth he wasn't prepared to find. "Why did you do that?"

"I told you: because." Merlin was really running out of options here.

"Why, Merlin?"

"I want to keep you safe." Specifically, running out of reasons.

"Why?"

"Because I care about you more than myself." Yep, this was it now, and he truly hoped that what he saw on Arthur's face was his resolve to be angry with his manservant, cracking.

"Why should I believe you? You already brought shame on me once today."

"Because… because the half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole!"  _And here we go,_  Merlin thought, expecting to be flung to the ground or thrown out any minute now, for getting philosophical. What he wasn't expecting was what Arthur did next. Instead of tossing him out, Arthur took a step back, staring, though he didn't release Merlin from his hold.

"You're right. I cannot hate you." Then, Arthur Pendragon, royal prat and once and future King, threw caution to the wind, closed the distance between them with a determined step, and claimed Merlin's mouth with his own. The sorcerer's eyes fell closed, and he was sure he was seeing stars behind his eyelids, akin to the fireworks that went off underneath his skin, where his lips were pressed against Arthur's. Slowly, the Prince started moving his lips against Merlin's, sliding them together, nipping at Merlin's bottom lip. While their kiss remained chaste, their hands seemed to take on a life of their own, and while Arthur's fingers somehow slid down across Merlin's chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt, Merlin took hold of the other man's hips, neither pushing nor pulling, just unconsciously circling patterns with his thumbs.

They stayed like this for a couple of minutes, just standing there, breathing the same air, getting closer to each other, getting used to the situation, as absurd as it seemed; until Arthur's patience wore thin. When Merlin's mouth opened slightly under his, he traced his lips with his tongue. Merlin understood the request for entrance and parted his lips wider, meeting the taller man's tongue with his own; tentatively, not wanting to break the spell. The kiss deepened, then, and Arthur started backing Merlin further into the room, though he made a detour towards the door. Merlin, completely lost in his surroundings, for a second thought he was going to be chucked out, but Arthur just wanted to close the door against any unwanted visitors.

Not even breaking the kiss, Arthur slid his hands upwards again, underneath Merlin's jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and, when Merlin let go of Arthur's hips and stretched out his arms behind his back, just let it fall to the floor at their feet; which made Merlin smile against his lips.  _Untidy prat._ When Arthur hesitated in removing his neckerchief, Merlin realized his concern, and went to work on the belt of Arthur's tunic, simultaneously pulling away to look at him with a smile that must have betrayed his happiness, even in the face of all that darkness, because Arthur seemed to relax and smiled back. At Merlin's raised eyebrow, he nearly blushed as he explained, "I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything… like this."

"I don't. I want to do a lot of things… like this," and with a cheeky grin, Merlin slid his hands underneath Arthur's shirt, letting the tips of his long fingers explore the Prince's stomach muscles that were trembling under his touch, and the contours of his chest. Arthur let out a small moan and dove back in to capture Merlin's lips while getting back to the task of getting him out of his clothes as soon as knightly possible.

Merlin followed suit, so not soon after, they were not only very aroused, but also very, very naked, and Arthur was confused. It was the right thing to do to pick a lady up and lay her gently on the bed, except Merlin was no lady and would probably laugh at him if he tried that with him. But he couldn't just shove him, so what was he to—ah. He hadn't quite factored in that Merlin might just make that decision for him. However, a second later, he found himself being dragged down on top of Merlin, who had simply wrapped himself around Arthur and hung on like a gangly, oversized limpet, effectively throwing them both into the covers. Landing with a somewhat undignified and inarticulate grunt, Arthur propped himself up on his right elbow, snaking his left arm around Merlin's waist and pulling him upwards on the bed with him until their legs weren't dangling off the edge anymore. He then settled down on top of Merlin, minding not to crush him with his weight and heavier build, and then gasped at the sheer sensation of skin on skin and their erections rubbing against each other. Merlin, in his own mind, had to mentally slap himself when the only reactions he came up with consisted of something that sounded suspiciously like,  _magic_.

Meanwhile, Arthur took it upon himself to map out the planes of Merlin's lithe body with his hands and his mouth, sure to leave more than one love bite in less than inconspicuous places, teasing the agitated flesh with flicks of his tongue. Merlin bucked his hips upwards at the sensations, making small noises at the back of his throat that had to have Arthur's ears perk up at some point.

"Are you… purring?" he asked, incredulity in his voice. Merlin opened his mouth to refute such a ridiculous claim, but got distracted when Arthur used that moment to draw lazy circles on his hipbone with his thumb—now paying actual attention to his own reactions, Merlin had to come to terms with the fact that he was, indeed, purring. Arthur, who'd been watching him intently, laughed—a beautiful, rich laugh, nothing like the little, scornful or condescending scoffs or chuckles Merlin had been getting from him so far—and then bowed his head to kiss Merlin's neck, right above his pulse. Merlin arched his back and, when their arousals met again, decided that they needed to move this along, post-haste. He wrapped his legs around Arthur's thighs, pulling him deeper into him, burying his hands in blonde hair that may have looked like straw, but felt like gold spun into silk. Arthur got the hint and their hips set up a slow, but fervent rhythm, both of them sensing what it would feel like to get lost in this; which they promptly set out to do.

Arthur propped up Merlin's hips by sliding his arm underneath him, then held out his index and middle finger and raised them to Merlin's mouth. Again, he stopped with a questioning expression on his face. Merlin knew what he wanted to ask but didn't know how, so by way of answering, he opened his mouth and snaked out his tongue to lick Arthur's fingers. The Prince visibly swallowed at the sight and then let Merlin take them into his mouth entirely. After a while, he withdrew his fingers, now slick with saliva, and moved them down towards Merlin's entrance, but lingered, not taking his eyes off Merlin's face. The anonymous sorcerer nodded, giving him permission. Arthur licked his lips and slowly, but firmly, pushed his fingers into Merlin, who reflexively closed his eyes at the intrusion—at least it seemed that way to Arthur, who couldn't have known that behind closed eyelids, Merlin pupils were glowing gold, and that it only served to mask that Merlin was using his intuitive magical powers to make this easier on his body. As his muscles relaxed around Arthur's fingers and he opened his eyes again, the young Pendragon became more confident, slowly moving further in and out again, scissoring his fingers to prepare Merlin for something else entirely.

Merlin was gasping and moaning now, trying—but failing—to keep his voice down when Arthur hit a spot that sent sparks up his spine and right into his cock. Arthur smiled a little smugly, prat that he was, and bent do kiss Merlin's chest, lingering as he removed his fingers, to which Merlin mewled in protest. He lifted himself up using his free arm and slowly moved his hips into place, nudging Merlin's opening with the tip of his erection. When Merlin wriggled underneath him and determinedly pushed his hips into his, Arthur knew that all the bets were off. Staring into Merlin's eyes, he pushed forward in one lengthy stroke, filling Merlin up to the hilt.

Merlin's head fell back into the pillows, his eyes wide open and clouded with pleasure. His hands grasped Arthur's shoulders and stroked up and down his back, eventually coming to rest on the knightly buttocks, pushing him deeper into him, causing Arthur to give a quiet yell. Both of them had lost track of when their breathing had changed from calm to nothing but erratic a while ago, and now there was just panting left as they rocked into each other, never minding that lack of oxygen when they came together for open-mouthed kisses, their tongues entwining in time with the rolling movements of their hips. When Arthur felt that he was close, he used his free hand, wiped off some of the fluid leaking out of Merlin's cock and spread it across his palm with his thumb, then circled Merlin's shaft, determined to bring him over the edge with him. A few deep strokes and squeezes later, both were shuddering, but Merlin came first, groaning Arthur's name, who then followed him into climax, gasping, "Merlin!" as he did.

He then nearly collapsed on top of Merlin, motioning to roll to the side, but Merlin tightened the hold of his legs and wrapped his arms around Arthur's back, keeping him where he was, not even thinking of his spilt semen drying on their skin.

"I'm too heavy, Merlin," Arthur managed, slurring his words a little, but Merlin just shook his head and closed his eyes, thumping his head into the pillows, a light smile on his face. Arthur tipped his head back a little to get a better look at him—yes, he did look thoroughly shagged out, and Arthur surmised he himself didn't look any different. He smiled at that, and settled into Merlin, nuzzling his face into his neck.

They stayed in that position for what felt like hours, but eventually, reality came crashing down on them, and Merlin opened his eyes to the fact that he had to get back to his rooms to practise the spell, and that the young knight atop of him had a tournament finale to get rested and ready for. He shifted slightly, and nearly groaned again when he felt Arthur's softened cock still inside him—stirring to life again, no less. Arthur knew what was about to happen, so he carefully moved out of Merlin, moaning at the sensation. He rolled on his back, but with Merlin still clinging to him as he was, he ended up lying on top of Arthur now, whose bright blue eyes seemed to pierce his soul and look for all his secrets, though he knew that the most terrible of all was still safe. He stared back for a while before leaning down to kiss Arthur's jaw and neck, even dropping a quick peck on the royal nose. When Arthur's brow furrowed a little, Merlin tilted his head.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing…"

"Arthur," Merlin smiled softly at calling him that so freely, "nothing that would make you frown right now could be nothing, because it has surely got something to do with what we just did and…" he swallowed, "what we're going to do about it."

"What do you  _want_  us to do about it?"

"What do  _you_  want us to do about it?"

Arthur chuckled a little, biting his lower lip and looking away for a second. Then, he turned his eyes back to Merlin, the expression on his face so serious that the younger man's stomach twisted.  _He's going to say it must never happen again, that it was just something to blow off steam before he's letting himself get killed tomorrow. He's going to say that this can never be, that—_

"I want us to do it again. I want us to keep doing this, in secret, as often as we can. I can't promise you love, Merlin, though I already know that you mean a great deal to me. I cannot promise you acknowledgement. But what I can promise you is that this is what I want—if you want it, too."

Merlin's jaw nearly dropped, but he caught himself in time to respond with a radiant smile that sent Arthur rolling his eyes. The warlock thumped him in the side with his right hand, eliciting a yelp of surprise first and then a glare, which Merlin cleverly set out to placate by catching Arthur's lips in another searing kiss. When he pulled back, Arthur knew what the look on his companion's face meant: he had to leave, and he hated it. Arthur pouted, but nodded, so they moved to disentangle themselves from each other, and Arthur bent over the edge of the bed to help sort their clothes into two piles they could recognize. He watched Merlin clean them both up with a towel he found draped over the back of a chair and then get dressed right next to him, and frowned again.

"What?"

"You need to eat more. If you want to be of any use to me during practice, you need meat on those ribs."

"Ah, that's all Your Highness is concerned about, is it?" Merlin quipped, humour in his voice, and he watched in amusement as Arthur seemed to rise to the bait, but then realized that he was just joking.

"You're too thin," was all that he said, then.

"You won't break me," Merlin replied just as earnestly.

"No, but I don't want someone else to try and succeed."

Merlin sat back down on the bed to pull on his shoes, then leaned over to quickly kiss Arthur, but pulled back before they had any chance to get lost in it again.

"I've got to go."

"I know."

"If there's anything I can do to help you tomorrow, I'll find it."

"I know that, too."

Merlin leaned in again, Arthur meeting him halfway, and this kiss lasted longer for they both knew that it might be their last. Eventually, they moved apart again, both wearing the kind of smiles that was bittersweet and yet an expression of unique contentment, born from the feeling of having known a singular joy. Merlin nodded gently, then got up to leave, but Arthur caught his wrist.

"See you after the finale."

Merlin nodded again, not trusting his voice enough to say anything, but Arthur, untypically, understood and released his arm. The young warlock looked at his master and friend—lover?—for a few more seconds, before he turned and walked towards the door, cracking it open to check for anyone lurking the halls. When he saw no-one, he chanced one last glance back at Arthur, who was watching him intently; then, Merlin stepped out into the hall and snuck back to his and Gaius' quarters, ever more determined to master that forsaken spell, and trying to block out the thought of what would happen to his heart if he didn't manage, or if he came too late to help Arthur.

After Merlin had left, Arthur lay awake for a long time, still feeling Merlin's touch on his body and the ghost of his slight weight on the mattress next to him, contemplating what they had just done, and trying to find out whether he might one day come to regret admitting that he wanted it to happen again. That he wanted Merlin. Try as he might to deny it, he knew he couldn't, so he just prayed that he would live to see another night, to feel Merlin's skin against his again, even though he felt like little more than a boy with a stick, going up against a far too powerful opponent, with only an old beggar's prayer on the tip of his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly AU, because in my world Merlin doesn't just leave Arthur to be a prat on the evening before the tournament finale.
> 
> Cookies for anyone who gets the Twin Peaks reference!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, I get nothing. Title and lyrics alluded to in the chapter nicked from Emilíana Torrini's Beggar's Prayer. I always write my stories with a particular song in mind, so go check it out on youtube while you read if you want, I think it fits!
> 
> Repost from ff.net.


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